


Ignore System for Distraction

by Dracoduceus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hanzo doesn't like planes, Hanzo is a systems engineer, Jesse is just there for the ride, M/M, Modern AU, Vomit, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 00:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: Hanzo isn'tafraidof planes but he definitely does not like the sensation of takeoff and landing. But he has a system to get over it.Except...well, Genji had insisted that he come out for his brother's birthday and things had gotten a little out of hand. So Hanzo boarded the plane without following his own rules.It's a shame that the person sitting next to him was so cute...





	Ignore System for Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SchweenWinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SchweenWinchester/gifts), [frankenmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankenmouse/gifts).



> Based on [Frankenmouse's post](http://frankenmouse.tumblr.com/post/177350029161/thelightreturns-tokiosunset-people-should-do) and wine dad telling me to. 
> 
> Hanzo's work is based off of what one of my friends does for a living. It's super cool - she goes to large factories and helps design their production systems. She ends up doing a lot of travel though for the most part she's able to drive. Sometimes she ends up in weird places like Wisconsin where she has to fly instead of drive so I thought it quite fitting. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you two are happy :P 
> 
> Oh...and watch out for the vomit.

Hanzo had been on planes many times. It was unavoidable as he traveled often for work. 

He reacted poorly each time. There was something about the little bump as they took off, the jolt in the stomach when they landed; the stale, processed air, the food that tasted like cardboard. And while Hanzo wouldn’t describe himself as particularly squeamish at very many things, well…airplanes always seemed to be out for him.

But he had a system and so long as he followed that system, he would be fine.

First: pull an all-nighter the night before to force himself into unconsciousness on the plane. 

Second: don’t eat for four or five hours before. 

Third: take a Dramamine as he boarded to settle the nervous twist in his stomach. 

Fourth: dose himself up on Benadryl (consequences of mixing it with Dramamine be damned) and knock himself out for as much of the trip as he could handle.

It didn’t work on short flights, the little hopping flights that took three hours to fly but was only a ten-hour drive. Hanzo was more than willing to drive those and unless a client was adamant about the plane, they were usually understanding.

But he was queasy even before getting to the airport because he had already broken his rules.

He was blaming Genji for the first. He had  _ insisted _ that Hanzo stay for his birthday; that they both go out and party. So Hanzo had stayed out late until he had gotten too drunk to properly remember his rules. He got laid that night too and the post-coital relaxation had put him to sleep as soon as his partner for the night had left.

The second was…well it was also kind of Genji’s fault but also his. He  _ would _ have left for the airport straight from the hotel but he had been so hungover that he gave in and finding some fast-food chain, had ordered a large, greasy breakfast which he had devoured. It had settled his stomach but had also sent something curding in his belly at the thought of flying on a full stomach.

With ammunition, so to speak.

He had managed to take the Dramamine at least. That was the only silver lining.

Everything had turned downhill when he remembered, his heart sinking into his feet, that he had been supposed to buy Benadryl at the airport store.

Leaning back in his seat Hanzo tried not to groan. The engines changed pitch. It was far too late for him to leave now. It was far too late to get more, too late to ask the flight crew.

Taking a deep breath, Hanzo pressed himself into his seat, gripping his armrests with white knuckles.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The engines screamed and Hanzo pressed his eyes closed, forcing himself to focus on breathing.

“Hey.” Hanzo’s eyes snapped open. The man next to him looked concerned, was leaning far too close. “You don’t look so hot. You okay?”

Hanzo opened his mouth to respond, to offer a cutting remark or perhaps just to tell the well-meaning man to leave him alone, but the world may ever know what he would have said because he lost the ability to speak when the plane began moving forward, faster and faster as it brought itself up to take-off speed.

He clenched his jaw shut and the man looked even more concerned. “You really don’t look so hot,” he said. “Do you want me to call the stewardess?”

Just when he thought that the roar of the engines couldn’t get any louder, Hanzo felt the little dip, the feeling like an enormous hand pressed him flat into his seat. His stomach and all of his organs found a new home in the soles of his feet; his soul, what was left of it, may have also found a new residence there for all the good the rest of his body did, caught between the plane and the throes of gravity.

If he could speak or even think, he would curse Genji a thousand times over. But he couldn’t, his brain and tongue somewhere in his legs with everything else.

Fortunately the moment lasted only that – a moment – and Hanzo turned as soon as he could feel his body again. He wanted to tell off the well-meaning man – lack of sleep made him grumpy, and his own nervousness (fear) made his mood even fouler.

The poor man looked so earnest, his brows pulled together in a concerned look and if he were more in his right mind, Hanzo would either feel guilty for his intended tirade or arousal because this man put his last partner to shame a thousand times over.

As Hanzo took a breath to speak, his stomach realigned itself like the snap of a rubber band and he realized that he needed to puke.

_ Right fucking now _ .

The man only managed to catch the last of it in the plastic-lined vomit bag. The rest of it covered his thick arms, the thick hairs catching globs of masticated bread and ham and egg, slimy trails of bile and spit, colored orange with the juice he had hurriedly drank to settle his stomach.

Hanzo held a handful of it in his hands, having tried to stop himself and slowly he poured it into the bag that the man still held before taking it. “I’m-,” he began.

He froze when the man heaved. Hanzo fumbled with the bag but like the man had been before, he was too late. The pungent smell of half-digested food and bile rose in the air and a few other passengers complained loudly about it.

They both sat there, arms and laps both covered in the other’s vomit, their mouths and beards both wet with it, a half-filled vomit bag held between them.

Hanzo swallowed and heaved a little at the unnatural feeling of a chunk of… _ something _ sliding down his throat again. The other man was looking anywhere but at Hanzo, still looking ill himself.

“Oh,” he heard behind him. “I’ll get…a towel I guess.”

* * *

The stewardess seemed surprisingly unbothered by their mess aside from her initial surprise, dumping an armful of napkins in their laps and dragging bottles of water and a trash bucket over. As soon as they had cleaned most of the…chunks…she shooed them off into the nearby lavatories to wash off and clean up as well as they could, promising to get everything cleaned up by the time they got back.

Fortunately they both had clothes in their carry-on bags and were able to change into them. After changing, scrubbing his arms and damp thighs as well as he was able to, Hanzo was able to shove his vomit-soaked clothes into a plastic bag the stewardess had handed him.

Walking shamefully back to his seat, Hanzo found the other man already there as the stewardess finished cleaning up. The seats were damp but the stewardess had used a strong enough soap that they could no longer smell the bile. She provided extra blankets as well to insulate them against the wet feeling and to dampen the smell which would surely give Hanzo a headache in a few hours.

As if she hadn’t just spent a ridiculous amount of time cleaning up after two grown men puking all over themselves, she waved and promised to see them again for drink service.

The man and Hanzo exchanged awkward glances, ignoring the disgusted looks of the passengers around them. They looked away and carefully not looking at each other, they settled back down in their seats for a long and awkward plane ride.

* * *

Hanzo fiddled with the book he had picked up at random from Genji’s shelf. He had only been half joking when he told his brother that he was going to burn it.

But first he was going to read it, cover to cover, to hide his mortification.

“Oh shit,  _ that _ book?”

Hanzo looked up. He held up the book and wiggled it. “This?”

The man’s face twisted into a series of expressions that were hard to interpret. “Yeah,  _ that _ steaming pile of crap?”

“I’ll have you know it’s the  _ epitome _ of fine literature,” Hanzo said with a sniff, watching the man’s face. He looked horrified, disgusted, then horrified again and Hanzo wondered what was running through his thoughts. Then he cracked a smile that was a little tense. “I’m sorry,” Hanzo said. “I almost couldn’t say that with a straight face.”

The man threw his head back with a laugh that was almost obnoxiously loud in such a tight space. He stopped quickly and cleared his throat. “Ah, sorry,” he said to the passengers in front of them that had turned to glare at him. He offered Hanzo a beaming smile. “After this morning, I think I needed that laugh.” He held out a hand. “Name’s McCree. Jesse McCree.”

Hanzo took his hand with a slight smile. “Hanzo,” he said. Jesse’s hand was clammy but Hanzo could feel the rasp of callouses along his palms and fingers. Curious, he flipped Jesse’s hand over.

“Are you a palm-reader, too?” Jesse teased and realizing that he had been caught staring, Hanzo dropped his hand. “I didn’t mind,” Jesse said and Hanzo looked up at him. “I like your hands on me.”

They both froze.

Jesse cleared his throat and looked away, a blush on his cheeks. Through the sunlight streaming in through the open window on Jesse’s other side, Hanzo found that he had sun freckles dusting over his cheeks and nose.

“Ah,” he said and Hanzo looked away, realizing that he was staring again. “Sorry.”

Hanzo cleared his throat and looked down at the cover of the cheap romance novel in his hands. “It’s okay,” he said to the book. Clearing his throat again, he lifted the book and went back to reading.

* * *

Hanzo had gotten to the point where he couldn’t bear to read another word. “It’s  _ terrible _ ,” Hanzo admitted to Jesse as he put it away. “I keep forgetting how bad it is.”

“Boredom does that to you,” Jesse agreed absently. He was perusing the screens on the seat in front of him, lingering on the map of their entire path. “Are we there yet?” he asked with a teasing smirk at Hanzo.

Hanzo flicked through his own display and groaned when he saw how much time left they had in their flight. At least they were  _ nearly _ there even if he was still trapped in a flying sardine can for another 45 minutes. “I wish.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jesse fidget. “So…about earlier…”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Hanzo suggested.

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. “Just…you seem fine now which is…I’m glad about.”

Hanzo made a face. “I…don’t like flying.”

“Understatement,” Jesse said with a good-natured laugh.

As if Hanzo hadn’t vomited all over him. He looked away, biting his lip.

They fell again into silence and Hanzo tried very hard to read the book again. He didn’t succeed and Jesse toggled through all of the menu settings on the screen in front of him five full revolutions before the intercom chimed, announcing the beginning of their descent.

Hanzo cleaned up, taking a few deep breaths. The nice stewardess from earlier offered him Dramamine and a bottle of water she had snuck off her cart for him.

“Hey,” Jesse said and Hanzo looked at him. Behind him Hanzo could see the shapes of trees and houses and cars growing larger. “You gonna be okay?”

Tearing his eyes away, Hanzo stared at the back of the seat in front of him and the display of the plane approaching their destination city. “Probably.”

“Here,” Jesse said and Hanzo glanced back at him. He was offering a hand to Hanzo. “Let me distract you.”

Swallowing, Hanzo considered turning him down but…he took Jesse’s hand. It was warmer now, his callouses rasping against Hanzo’s palm in ways that sent shivers down his spine. Before he could stop himself, he wondered what they might feel against his skin, what rasping sounds they might make on his clothes as they were ripped off…

Perhaps he should stop reading those trashy romance novels for the  _ ideas _ they put in his mind.

Jesse ran his thumb over the back of Hanzo’s knuckles and twisted their hands so that their fingers were tangled together. “Might be mighty presumptuous of me,” he said. “But I’d like to take you out sometime? Maybe for coffee? Dinner? That is, if this isn’t a connecting stop and you’re off somewhere else.”

“No,” Hanzo found himself saying. “I’m staying here for about a week for work.”

“Really?” Jesse asked, his face lighting up. “So I might be able to take you out more than once, then?”

Hanzo found himself smiling. “I’m sure to have a few work meetings and I need to find out my schedule but yes. I’d like that.” His stomach fluttered and for the first time he understood the meaning of “butterflies in the stomach”. “I’d like to take  _ you _ out, too. To make up for…earlier.”

“Mighty fine,” Jesse said. They both jolted when the wheels hit the ground and Jesse laughed at the shocked look on Hanzo’s face. “I meant what I said about dinner,” he promised Hanzo. “How about it? Think I can have a few nights with you on my arm?”

Unable to help himself, Hanzo laughed.

* * *

“So how did you meet?”

Satya slowly put her fork down. “Please don’t,” she hissed. “Not now, I’m  _ eating _ .”

“Not in front of my salad!” Genji teased and winced when Fareeha punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! But yeah, you never really  _ did _ say…”

It turned out that Jesse lived across the hall from Genji and the two knew each other. It also turned out that through a convoluted set of circumstances, Jesse knew the Amaris, whose project Hanzo had been traveling to work on. Ana Amari ran the plant in New Mexico and Jesse had been going to visit her; Fareeha Amari worked in the plant in Hanzo’s side of the world and after seeing what he had done to her mother’s systems, had commissioned Hanzo to follow her back.

Over the course of two years they had become friends. Hanzo still occasionally flew over to visit Ana in New Mexico on the condition that his certified distraction come with him.

He and Jesse had always been waiting for someone to ask more about how they met. Now they traded glances, tangling their fingers together and leaning in for a kiss that had everyone groaning. “ _ Gross, _ ” Genji cried, making a few of the other patrons in the restaurant turn around in annoyance.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Satya muttered into her food.  _ She _ knew.  _ She _ had been the only one to ask and had regretted it immediately. “Please let me eat my food, first.”

Jesse lifted their tangled fingers and pressed a kiss to Hanzo’s knuckles. “I impressed him with my bravery on the plane,” he said.

“My brother  _ hates _ flying,” Genji commented, looking impressed. “You actually got him to  _ talk? _ He usually drugs himself into oblivion.”

Satya made a disgusted sound and pushed her plate away. “Well I forgot to get Benadryl,” Hanzo said with a laugh.

Jesse crooked his finger under Hanzo’s chin and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Yup,” Jesse said, popping his lips on the ‘p’. He brought his other hand up, the engagement ring on his finger catching the light. “He puked all over me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hate vomit. I'd almost rather stay miserable and sick than vomit. Ugh. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed or at least were not completely driven away by this!
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on tumblr at [Classywastelandbread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/). Sometimes you can [poke me to do things too](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/ask). 
> 
> ~DC


End file.
